


Home Visit

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: The Witcher and the Whore [9]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Prostitution, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: “I can’t come back here again.”Kinktober: Formal Wear, Prostitution
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher and the Whore [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928341
Comments: 19
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

Dandelion didn’t typically visit client’s homes - it wasn’t smart and it wasn’t safe - but it was Geralt, and he’d asked nicely, so the bard hadn’t seen any reason to refuse

> _“I can’t come back here again,” Geralt had said softly. They had been sprawled on the bed, Dandelion stretched on Geralt’s chest like a cat, his ass still oozing oil and semen._
> 
> _“Has Margot banned you? She was rather upset with you the day you saved me from that whipping bench.”_
> 
> _“I- I’m getting a reputation.”_
> 
> _“Oh,” Dandelion’s face had fallen._
> 
> _“Can you come to me?”_
> 
> _“I- Geralt I have a contract-”_
> 
> _“I’ll pay Margot her cut,” the Witcher had promised. “But I want you to come to my home.”_

Geralt had given Dandelion a time and an address. Presumably it was the time Geralt expected to be finished with his latest contract - something to do with drowners, Dandelion hadn’t gotten much out of him other than that - and had promised to meet him.

Dandelion hadn’t looked at the address until Geralt had already left, otherwise he might have refused. It was on the opposite side of town from Dandelion’s home, where the important people lived (and well, most of Dandelion’s clients, he’d already seen a few familiar faces).

Geralt’s house, once he found it, was absolutely as ostentatious as the manor Dandelion had grown up in and far too large for a single man. _But such is the way of the rich_ , he thought, studying the front lawn, planted - not with flowers, but with herbs - and the winding stone path that led to the front door. Not seeing any sign of Geralt - and he was still a few minutes early - Dandelion did his best to kill time without drawing too much attention to himself.

 _I do not belong here_ , the bard decided, shifting his lute on his shoulder uncomfortably and glancing around. Anywhere else in the city and he could have just played his lute and pretended to be a beggar, but if he tried that in Geralt’s neighborhood he had a feeling he’d get the watch called on him.

He’d worn his nicest clothes - one of the few outfits he had left from his days as nobility - but even then, he stuck out. The clothes were - despite the alternations he’d done - slightly out of style, and the lace cuffs had been replaced twice when they’d worn out. Anyone with even a partial knowledge of fashion would know he was an imposter.

As a Witcher, Geralt could wear whatever he wanted and still rub shoulders with nobility. As a half elf, Dandelion had to look decent otherwise he’d be assumed to be a thief or beggar.

 _Damn it, Geralt, I’m going to get arrested_ , he thought miserably. _Or Dijkstra is going to find me and that would be even worse. If he finds out I do house calls I won’t ever get away from him_.

As much as he hated Dijkstra, Dandelion couldn’t risk pissing him off too much. No only did the man pay to fuck him - humiliate him, as it were - he also paid for whatever tidbits of gossip Dandelion passed on to him. Every extra coin went into the jar Dandelion kept under a loose floorboard beneath his bed, financing his eventual escape.

As a half elf he couldn’t be a professor, but if he could get back to Oxenfurt, there was no reason he couldn’t be a tutor. Or perhaps he could find fame as a bard, one of the few things non-humans seemed to be able to do. Either way, Oxenfurt was decidedly safer than Rivia. He just needed enough money to join an expedition to get there, not to mention money for better clothes to make himself fit in.

Dandelion squared his shoulders and glanced around. There was still no sign of Geralt.

He didn’t hear a thing before there was a over his mouth and a knife on his throat. The attacker stayed behind him, out of sight, and dragged him behind a row of hedges.

 _Oh gods_ , he thought miserably. _Oh gods, please be Geralt_. But he doubted the Witcher would do such a thing. As much as Geralt loved roughing him up, he also seemed to genuinely care about consent. He wouldn’t drag Dandelion into an alley without talking to him first.

“Why don’t you start talkin’?” growled a low voice in his ear. “What do you want from Geralt you sneak thief?”

But the hand over his mouth didn’t move, so Dandelion was unable to explain why he’d been staring at the Witcher’s house. He whined and tried to pull free, hoping he could explain himself, but the knife on his throat pressed harder, not quite drawing blood but the threat was clear.

“You aren’t going to scream or-”

“Lambert!”

 _Oh thank the gods_. Recognizing the new voice - the one who’d called out - Dandelion’s eyes snapped open to see Geralt standing at the entrance to the alley.

“Let him go,” said Geralt, folding his arms over his chest.

“Found him spying on your house-”

“He’s invited you idiot.”

The man - Lambert - finally released Dandelion and he stumbled forward, gasping for air gratefully. “Thought he was casing the place.”

“Casing it?” demanded Dandelion. “Only a fool would break into a house in this neighborhood.” He straightened himself up, shaking his head fiercely.

“This is Lambert,” Geralt said, motioning to the other man. “Lambert, this is Dandelion.”

Lambert - clearly a Witcher, judging by his eyes, studied Dandelion for a long moment. Then he was suddenly in Dandelion’s personal space again, sniffing him. Dandelion stood absolutely still, watching Geralt out of the corner of his eye. But since Geralt didn’t seem to think he was in danger he stayed as still as he could.

“ _You’re_ the whore,” Lambert said, a gleeful grin spreading over his face.

Dandelion decided not to ask why Lambert could tell that from his smell.

“Lambert-” Geralt began.

Lambert cackled. “Eskel owes me fifty crowns!” he crowed, slapping Dandelion on the back. “He thought your mystery whore must be a woman. You always did prefer a cunt, but I thought it must be something unique to keep your attention for so long. Unless-”

Lambert grabbed the front of Dandelion’s trousers, apparently curious if Dandelion had a cock or not. The bard yelped. Geralt finally stepped in, grabbing Lambert and pulling him back.

“Don’t grope people,” he growled, flashing sharp, canine teeth at the dark haired Witcher.

“He’s a whore-” Lambert’s excuse was cut off as Geralt kneed him in the balls. He dropped to his knees with a groan.

“Whore’s have feelings, Lambert,” Geralt said quietly.

“Oh fuck you, Geralt,” grunted Lambert. He pushed himself up, stepping back from Geralt and Dandelion.

“Go find Eskel and get your crowns,” Geralt said irritably. “And stop placing bets on my life.”

“Nope, not plannin’ on it.” Lambert cackled as Geralt pulled Dandelion from the alley.

Geralt sighed. “Sorry about that, Dandelion,” he muttered. “Lambert can be a bit…”

“Protective?” Dandelion offered.

“Stupid.”

The bard snickered. “I bet it got your heart rate up,” he teased, elbowing Geralt as they walked up the Witcher’s front path.

“You could say that,” grumbled Geralt. “I could smell your fear fifty feet away.”

“Oh well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” He froze, then grinned. "What if I was breaking into your house?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dandelion trotted into the door and looked around. “Is anyone else here?” he asked.

“No,” Geralt said, hanging his swords on a hook on the wall. He took Dandelion’s lute and hung it beside them. “I give them the day off when I’m on a contract.”

“Excellent,” said Dandelion. “Did you like my idea?”

“What? That I caught you mid-thieving?” Geralt shrugged. “Fine by me.” There was still a bit of fear hanging in Dandelion’s scent from his encounter with Lambert and gods - Geralt _loved_ it. If Dandelion was really in danger he doubted it would have been as much fun if the bard was really in danger, but since it had just been a mishap…

“Excellent. First, what are the rules?”

“Rules?”

“Things I can’t touch, places I can’t go-”

Geralt shrugged. “Make yourself at home,” he said, waving his hand.

Dandelion’s eyes gleamed. “Good, good. Now, go outside and give me, ohhhh thirty seconds? Maybe a minute? Surprise me, actually.”

Geralt stepped back outside obediently, pretending to check the herbs growing in his front lawn. He gave Dandelion his time to get started on whatever it was he was doing, then reentered the house.

He wasn’t in the entry hall.

Geralt frowned, suddenly realizing he should have warned Dandelion before sending him off into the house by himself. _There’s a lot of poisons in the kitchen_ , he thought worriedly, _and weapons… well, everywhere…_

He shook his head to clear it, reminding himself that Dandelion wasn’t a complete moron and could probably figure out what was dangerous by looking at it, and headed into the house.

Dandelion had left him a trail, he realized, seeing a vase that had been shifted several inches. He was a bit disappointed Dandelion hadn’t broken it. It was ugly as shit, but Yennefer had given it to him, so he couldn’t just throw it out.

Geralt followed the trail of shifted and - in the case of a small stone carving, also a gift from Yennefer - missing items. Eventually he could hear Dandelion’s breathing and he slowed down, moving as quietly as he could until he could see the bard.

He found him in the kitchen, pawing through a pantry. Dandelion had a bag he’d taken from the entry wall, one that Geralt used to collect herbs. Judging by the lump, it contained the missing statue. 

Geralt grinned. It seemed Dandelion hadn’t heard him yet, too busy focusing on his mischief. As Geralt watched he opened a jar of jam, stuck his finger in it, and then slowly licked the jam off his finger.

Alright, apparently he did realize he was being watched, even if he hadn’t reacted.

The pantry only had one door, so Geralt leaned in the doorway and watched him for a moment. Dandelion picked up an apple and took a slow bite from it, letting the juices drip down his chin.

_Minx_ , thought Geralt, but he couldn’t deny the effect it was having on him. He moved quickly and quietly, sneaking up behind Dandelion and - mimicking what Lambert had done earlier - pressing a knife to his throat.

Dandelion squeaked.

“It seems I have a rat in my kitchen,” Geralt said softly. “A thieving little rat.” His hips, pressed against the bard’s ass, bracketed him against the counter, pinning him and preventing any kind of escape.

“My lord-”

“Quiet, Rat,” he snapped. “Show me what’s in your bag.”

Dandelion’s hands trembled as he placed the bag on the counter and slowly opened it, pulling out a candelabra, a piece of ginger root, and Yennefer’s statue. 

“So the rat took more than just cheese?” teased Geralt, tapping his finger against the top of the statue. “He even took my art.”

“Alright, Geralt, I have to pause for just a moment,” Dandelion said suddenly.

Geralt blinked.

“Did you- uh- you are aware what this is? It was sitting on the table so I thought you might have had it out to play with, but I’m realizing it might actually belong there-”

“It’s a statue,” Geralt said blankly.

Dandelion made a strange, choking noise. “I assure you, it’s a dildo.”

_Oh. Shit_. Geralt squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how many people had seen the carved stone sitting on the table - in the entry hall, no less - and known what it was. “That- uh, that would explain why Yennefer gave it to me,” he admitted finally. “She uh- telling me to go fuck myself would fit.” It was, if he was honest, slightly phallic in shape. Larger on the bottom with a curving protrusion, then a long, straight shaft going up. He had assumed it was just meant to sit and show off the intricate colors in the rock, but it seemed he’d been wrong.

“Oh my gods.” Dandelion howled with delight. “Oh I- oh Geralt, you fucking idiot.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and waited for the bard to stop laughing. Deciding that he might as well lean into Dandelion’s assumptions he lifted the heavy toy. “Does the Rat know what this is?” he asked.

“No sir,” Dandelion whispered, dropping right back into character, although his eyes still gleamed with mirth. Geralt had a feeling he was never going to live this down.

As he’d done before, Dandelion began to cry, his shoulders shaking. “Please don’t call the guards-”

“I don’t call the guards on rats,” said Geralt. “I poison them and then I skin them.”

Dandelion managed to wriggle away from him, but instead of heading for the door he stumbled deeper into the kitchen, only to trap himself in a corner. Toy in hand, Geralt stepped after him, igniting the fire with a snap of his fingers. Dandelion, who was crouched beside the fireplace, cried out and ran forward, colliding with Geralt.

He pushed Dandelion against the wall, then held the toy in front of his eyes. “Know what this is, rat?”

“No sir, I- I just meant to sell it sir- that’s all sir-”

Geralt bared his teeth menacingly.

“I’m hungry sir,” whimpered the bard. “Please, sir, I won’t trouble you again, I merely wanted supper, sir- sir, please, please don’t call the guards- I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Geralt asked quietly.

“Anything,” Dandelion whimpered.

“Strip.”

Tears dripped off Dandelion’s face as he undressed, his body shaking. By all appearances he was nothing more than a frightened young man who understood exactly what was about to happen to him.

He put his clothes aside and looked at Geralt expectantly.

Not certain how to segue into what he wanted, Geralt decided to forgo words, instead flipping the bard over a counter.

“Mercy!” wailed Dandelion as Geralt reached past him, grabbing a bottle of cooking oil. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and drenched Dandelion’s ass.

“I thought I’d show you what this was meant for,” he said, pushing the end of the statue against Dandelion’s hole.

“No!” Despite his attempts to flee, Dandelion had no where to go as Geralt pressed the toy against his hole. As long as he was careful, he could work him open with the toy, since it was narrower on the end and gradually grew wider toward the bottom.

“Please, please-” he sobbed as Geralt gently pressed the tip inside.

“Hold still, Rat,” he said. “This will hurt a lot.”

Then Dandelion suddenly pressed himself back, apparently in an attempt to flee, but all it did was force the toy all the way inside him with no preparation. He screamed and arched his back. 

Geralt swore.


End file.
